Baby Shoes
Page 1
Baby Shoes
Another
Mt. Hope Southern Adventure
Book Four
Lynne Gentry
Baby Shoes (Mt. Hope Southern Adventures, Book Four)
Copyright © 2017 by Lynne Gentry
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously.
Cover photo © 2017 Lynne Gentry
Cover Design by Castle Creations
Edited by Gina Calvert
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Details can be found at the end of BABY SHOES.
Summary
When the life you save is your own.
Madison Harper is an uptight doctor
on her way to international recognition.
Parker Kemp is no longer the fun-loving cowboy
Madison tried to ignore in high school.
He’s a humanitarian
who came home from a third-world country
with a life-threatening illness and an adorable daughter.
Maddie and Parker can’t fall in love
and continue saving the world...or can they?
Opposites attract and bridges are mended
in the heartwarming conclusion to the Harper family saga.
Fast-paced humor. Tear-jerking candor.
Heart-melting romance.
www.lynnegentry.com
MT. HOPE SOUTHERN ADVENTURES
Walking Shoes
Shoes to Fill
Dancing Shoes
Baby Shoes
WOMEN OF FOSSIL RIDGE SERIES
Flying Fossils
MECIAL THRILLER
Ghost Heart
Check out Lynne Gentry’s
Sci-Fi/Time Travel Adventures
The Carthage Chronicles
Healer of Carthage
Return to Exile
Valley of Decision
A Perfect Fit
Shades of Surrender
For Megan
You are your mother’s daughter.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
The black convertible had been riding her bumper closer than the dread of her reluctant homecoming. Maddie glanced in the rearview and thumped the brakes as a back-off warning. The BMW sped to within reading distance of his front license plate.
Texas.
No self-respecting cowboy would be caught dead in such a useless off-road vehicle. This guy was not from this godforsaken stretch of pumpjacks, wind turbines, and scrub brush.
Sunset’s crimson rays glinted off the driver’s dark glasses. He flashed a cocky smile and Maddie realized she’d been staring. She quickly averted her eyes. If this upscale tailgater wasn’t going to pass her on this empty stretch of interstate, he could eat her dust.
Maddie gripped the wheel of her new red sports car. The high performance Porsche was the first splurge she’d allowed herself since receiving her share of the surprising fortune her father had left the family. Spending what her daddy had worked so hard to save on anything other than her education didn’t seem right...at least not until she was gainfully employed. How she wished she could tell him about her new job...well, it wasn’t her job yet, but she felt confident it would be.
According to the email she’d received from the head of the CDC’s Disaster Epidemiology Department, they were reviewing her written argument for the hiring of more MDs than PhDs. After all, their agency was as committed to alleviating human suffering as they were to disease containment during major international outbreaks of cholera or typhoid. They agreed that her proposal to send doctors with epidemiology credentials along with a control scientist would put more effective boots on the ground. They went on to say that none of the other candidates had thought to add such an impressive and well-researched component to their application. Until all applicants could be interviewed, they would appreciate the opportunity to be the first to counter the many job offers she was certain to receive.
Much as Maddie hated to credit her mother with any part of the CDC’s positive response to the years of her own hard work, she’d learned the art of going the extra mile to make a good first impression from Momma.
Maddie pulled the band from her thick ponytail and shook her curls free. The time had come to see how far she could take herself. Her sandal barely tapped the gas and the speedometer needle instantly swept from 75 to 100 mph.
Golden strands whipping around her face, Maddie sailed past leaning fence posts and spindly mesquites. A brief glance in the mirror brought a smug smile to her face. No convertible.
Her gaze darted back to the highway. In the distance, Mt. Hope’s billboard-sized exit sign stood like a flyswatter ready to smack her flat. She didn’t need 20/20 vision to read the embarrassing slogan. Every Mt. Hope student was expected to recite the motto daily, right after the Texas pledge. After all, who wouldn’t want to live in a place where “Folks are more generous than the dust?”
Her. That’s who.
Something shiny flashed in Maddie’s periphery. The BMW had caught her and was now humming alongside her Porsche. The tanned guy behind the leather-wrapped wheel delivered a challenging, game-on nod then zipped ahead.
“You don’t mess with Texas and you don’t mess with me, mister,” she mumbled between clenched teeth.
The desire to win had garnered Maddie a spot in one of the nation’s toughest medical schools, followed by a prestigious residency match and, finally, acceptance into one of the top-ranking infectious disease fellowships.
Shaking this tailgater would be good practice for what lay ahead. If she had any hope of escaping her mother’s plans to stuff her into her tidy box, she’d need more than a lead foot. She’d need a bucket-load of courage.
Maddie jammed the accelerator pedal to the floor. Her Porsche easily caught and passed the irritating car.
Thrilled that her drag racing skills had not atrophied during her years of riding crowded, northeastern subways, Maddie sped toward Mt. Hope’s hideous exit sign. A split second before her planned veer toward the small town, the stalker car rocketed around. Bumpers almost kissing, she swerved toward the ditch as he cut her off. Maddie swerved back onto the road, laid on the horn, and gave the reckless guy behind the wheel the universal symbol of disapproval.
He pumped a victory fist in response.
She eased off the gas. Getting caught at the red light and being forced to stare at the back of his pompous head was the last thing she needed today. Luckily, the speed racer treated the stoplight like a yield sign, slowing just long enough to throw her a triumphant wave through his open top. He
peeled left and disappeared in the direction of Mt. Hope’s small county hospital, the tiny medical facility Momma was always going on about, as if adding the second floor had made it into a premier healing destination.
Maddie coasted to a stop at the intersection, her knuckles white and jaw still clenched. The light turned green. Then yellow. Then red. Then green again. She couldn’t make herself press the accelerator. Instead, she sat at the deserted intersection, car idling, hands sweating beneath her killer grip on the wheel. She had nearly been killed by a hot guy in a hot car. But, she’d be lying to herself if she said that near-death experience was the reason her foot remained firmly on the brake.
Native scents of dust and cattle blew through the open window and cleared Maddie’s nostrils of the last traces of city smog. Coming here was a fool’s errand. She’d given her mother false hope when she’d agreed to come back to Texas for the month between finishing her epidemiology certification and waiting for the job in Atlanta...assuming she got the CDC job.
But the twin extremes of euphoria and exhaustion after graduation had made her vulnerable to Momma’s conscience-pricking invitation.
“You wouldn’t believe how your brother’s oldest has grown,” Momma had said as she smeared butter on a roll and continued her update on life in Mt. Hope. “Jamie’s still small for four, but despite his early start, he’s as smart as his Aunt Maddie. And little Libby’s blonde curls remind me of how much hair you had at three months. They all would’ve been here for your proud moment, but Amy just wasn’t up to traveling after her rough delivery. Thank God for Dr. Boyer and his maternal-fetal skills.”
The stoplight cycled through all three colors again without a single car passing through from any direction.
She wanted David’s children to adore her the way they adored Momma.
She loved kids. In theory.
In practicality, she knew better than to wish for a miracle.
She was awful with children. They either cried or ran the other way whenever she dared to venture into their little worlds. Momma claimed if Maddie would just calm down, kids wouldn’t smell her fear. Maddie believed the problem to be far simpler—some people were suited to be parents. Some were not. Breaking out in hives whenever she was faced with the care of a tiny human was proof she’d done the right thing when she gave up on practicing family medicine and sought a career in epidemiology. Children weren’t allowed to infiltrate infectious disease labs.
So far, her long distance plan of connecting with David’s kids by sending gifts worked for her. Why had she agreed to subject herself to the humiliation of failing in person?
Parker Kemp.
His name was a jab to the heart that didn’t make a lick of sense. She’d discarded the starry-eyed humanitarian over four years ago. Left him holding a horseshoe at her mother’s wedding reception. She’d returned to the medical residency she’d chosen because of the miles it put between her and several unpleasant things. Like the possibility of becoming a missionary’s wife. She knew what a life spent in ministry looked like. She’d watched her mother struggle under the constant scrutiny and the inability to measure up to people’s expectations. Long hours, constant demands, and poor financial remuneration had sent her father to an early grave.
She’d made the right choice. Medicine, along with the respect and financial security a professional career offered, was the life for her.
And she’d been fine with the decision...until her last phone conversation with Momma.
“Why does Parker have to leave Guatemala?” She regretted taking the bait the minute she bit. Before she could back out, Momma set the hook.
“His ranch manager trashed his house and nearly burned down his barn. Parker’s father took over, and he was doing a pretty good job of keeping up with his own cattle operation and Parker’s ranch until he got thrown from a horse and broke his hip. Doctors are saying poor Ryan’s going to have a protracted recovery—and all of this right during calving season. Parker has no choice. He has to come home. If he can’t hire a new manager to cover until his father is back on his feet, he’ll either have to sell his land or leave his third-world water project for good.”
Thinking about Parker facing the possibility of losing his dream made her incredibly sad. He deserved to be happy. More than any man she’d ever met. That’s why she’d set him free.
On the two-day drive from the East Coast, she’d prepared for the possibility that, despite this setback, Parker was happy. That he’d found the perfect someone.
What she hadn’t prepared for was how this rugged and suddenly beautiful landscape reminded her of his scuffed boots, big heart, and endearing smile.
Maddie tapped the wheel. A horn blasted behind her. With a start, her chin jerked toward the mirror. The impatient cattle truck driver waved her on.
“Okay. I’m going.” Maddie flipped her right signal and turned onto Main Street.
She passed the Koffee Kup. The diner was closed earlier than normal for a summer evening. What would the old ranchers who’d worked until dark do for supper? Beside the diner was the Mt. Hope Messenger, the newspaper office where Momma had been hired on as an obituary writer after Daddy died. Maddie appreciated how Ivan Tucker had given Momma the opportunity to get back into journalism. On the other side of the street, all the businesses had been boarded up except for Dewey’s Hardware and Brewer’s Auto. Had Momma mentioned the sagging economy or had she simply not paid attention whenever Mt. Hope came up in their conversations?
Two blocks past the square, the last of the sun’s golden rays bounced off the steeple of Mt. Hope Community Church. Maddie steeled herself and wheeled onto Church Street.
Construction on the church’s new family life center was almost complete and the parsonage where she’d grown up had undergone a facelift. Apparently, in replacing dad at Mt. Hope Community Church, her big brother hadn’t squandered his inheritance on fast cars.
Feeling guilty and a little conspicuous in her plush leather seat, Maddie eased the Porsche into the parsonage drive and rolled to a cautious stop in front of the two-story monstrosity she’d once called home. Every light in the house was on and the place sparkled. Momma had spent years chipping away at the coats of paint that held this house together, but the parsonage had never glowed like it did now. Amazing what new siding, windows, and a beautiful front door could do for an old house.
Maddie stared at the hand-lettered banner flapping between the freshly-painted front porch pillars.
Welcome HOME, Dr. Harper!!!
The load she carried just got heavier.
“She’s here!” Maxine crowed from the porch steps. The long-legged elder’s wife leapt to her feet, ran to the front door, and yelled through the screen. “Leona, put down that grandbaby and come quick.”
Maddie’s designer heels were sinking in the Texas dust when Momma flew out the door, arms open wide.
“My sweet baby girl!”
Baby girl was going to be a tough image to shed. But she was a grown woman who’d earned the right to direct her own life.
Momma shimmered in her strappy summer dress and red heels as she raced down the stairs. Hard to tell whether Momma’s healthy, sun-kissed glow came from finally being debt-free or from a living at the lake with her new husband and his bass boat.
Momma on water.
The thought was almost as jarring as getting used to seeing her mother holding hands with another man. It wasn’t that Maddie didn’t like Saul Levy. In fact, she’d need his help to divert Momma’s disappointment. But seeing him standing in her father’s place on the parsonage porch had been harder than she expected.
“Come here, sweetheart.” Momma threw her arms around Maddie in a protective bear hug.
“Hey, Momma,” Maddie’s gaze shot over her mother’s shoulder. Half of the congregation of Mt. Hope Community Church had spilled out of the house and joined Saul on the porch. Momma must have asked them to hide their cars on the other side of the church to pull off this ambush.
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“Surprise!” They shouted in unison.
The mystery as to why Ruthie’s diner had been deserted was solved. The prodigal daughter had come home. Momma had asked the town’s best cook to kill the fatted calf while she filled the parsonage with a fleet of probing, small-talk middlemen.
Ruthie Crouch held out a piece of her pie. “Chocolate meringue, Maddie. Your favorite.”
“Momma, I thought we agreed I was just going to slip into town and rest for a few weeks.”
Her mother pulled back and offered an innocent smile. “It’s just a little welcome home celebration. They’re as proud of you as I am.” Momma patted her cheek. “I know you’re tired. They won’t stay long, I promise.” She lifted the luggage strap from Maddie’s shoulder. “Let me get this for you.”
“I can manage.”
“It’s not very heavy.” Momma won the tug of war then raised the lightweight bag up and down with a confused scowl. “You didn’t bring much.”
Maddie shot a rescue-me gaze at the only other human being who understood what it meant to have Momma constantly hovering. “Hey, big bro.”
“Hey, little sis.” How did David do it? Live in the parsonage. Stand in their father’s pulpit Sunday after Sunday. Have Momma constantly in his business and not go mad.
David and his family navigated the porch steps.
The small, blond-headed boy with huge blue eyes perched high on her brother’s shoulders couldn’t be Jamie. Momma was right. Her nephew had certainly thrived despite his premature birth. David’s wife, Amy cradled baby Libby. Although it was obvious from Amy’s sunken cheeks that this last pregnancy had taken a toll on her health, the petite nurse still glowed with peace and contentment.
Before she could say how glad she was to see her brother and make a mess of trying to get to know his children, the Story sisters came down the steps and formed a parenthetical statement around David’s little family. The old women’s sun-spotted hands clasped pickle jars and excited grins pleated their wrinkled faces.
“Hasn’t she grown into quite the beauty, sister?” Etta May lightly dragged bent fingers hand across Maddie’s cheek.
“I told you she’d lose that baby fat,” Nola Gay said.